The Definition of Sarcasm
by MarauderAddict
Summary: Matilda thought she was normal. Well, at least partially. Everything was going fine, until she travels down the wrong road, thus discovering the biggest secret ever known to man-kind. Well, at least she thinks it is... Reviews peoples! I love 'em
1. Chapter 1

I have officially decided that my teacher is a gluteus maximus who should move to Mongolia or Argentina or some other random country and just die. Maybe I could even go and personally hack him to pieces, just ask my class mates, he deserves it.

But no, he can't do that for heaven hath no pity on me and I'm now going to be spending the remainder of my life starting at my empty page.

Two thousand words.

Two thousand bloody words he wants me to write; on Shakespeare of all things. How can you even get two thousand words on that guy?

He wrote a few stories because he had no life, he lived in a house made of straw and then he died, does that look like two thousand words to you?

Ripping up what's got to be the millionth piece of paper and throwing it at the bin, I screamed.

Yep, that's right, I screamed. Just a loud and agitated noise to let the world know how I'm feeling.

I vigorously pushed away from the desk and glided on my wheelie chair over to the window to glance into the wonderland that was my back yard.

It was a beautiful view, so calm and serene. The miniature lake took up majority of the back yard; it had such a calming effect and as the first light of the day galloped idly over its surface I felt my frustration slowly ebb away. With the lake in the back right hand corner, the rest of the yard was filled with mums garden; vegetables of all sorts sprouting out of the soil and then there was dads deck.

I remember the day dad had finished the deck, he was so happy.

"_Look Tilly, it's all done" he beamed, using my child hood nickname. _

"_It look pity" I exclaimed, bouncing up and down._

_We walked up the small set of wooden stairs and onto the deck cladding, our shoes making a fulfilling 'thud' as they hit the ground. A large stone mound rose partway to the base of the gabled roof as filmy aqua water cascaded down its front. A slightly large, oblong table was placed next to the feature, in all its maple-colored glory. Pot plants of all colours sat around the rim of the entire patio, held back by a small light brick gate and only breaking off from where the stairs emerged. Garden lights were convened around the decking, their light flickering and dancing in the air. There was a sign hanging from the roof on the opposite side of the deck, simply saying 'Heaven on Earth' and conveniently placed underneath it was a curved wooden bar, with a glass cabinet behind it full of various types of colourful alcohol. Several leather bar chairs were placed around the outside of the bar and a small wad of wood traced the bottom – a foot rest. _

_Knowing what sat behind the bar, I charged around it and ripped open the hidden mini fridge. With a victorious grin, I pulled out a can of soda. _

"_Look out; she's already found the drinks" I remember my dad joking. _

_My parents laughed at my antics, mum having joined us some time ago. After a few minutes of struggling with the opening pin of the can, I raced towards my dad and demanded that he opened it. He did so and I giggled at the sound of the fizzy gas escaping._

"_Daddy go pop-off" I laughed, covering my mouth with my hand._

_I reached up to grasp the freshly opened can, but dad held it back._

"_What do you say, Matilda?" He pushed._

"_Tilly wan ligafy sooga, Tilly wan ligafy sooga" I chanted._

"_You can have your liquefied sugar when you say the magic word, Tilly" mum laughed._

"_Tilly wan ligafy sooga, pweez" I said. _

_Dad chuckled half-heartedly and handed it to me; I took an extra large gulp of it which lead to me having a small coughing fit. _

I smiled at the memories of myself as a child; mum had always said I was a handful.

"Matilda, Rueben wants to know it you want to go for a swim"

_Speak of the Devil and the Devil shall appear_. I thought and then mentally slapped myself for actually thinking of the devil. Crap, what if he appears too?

"Umm, Tilly? You right there love?" mum asked.

Damn, guess I actually did slap myself. Buggar.

"Yeah, I'm fine" I beamed.

"Are you sure, you just slap-"

"What was that about Rueben?"

"Oh, he was wondering if you wanted to go for a swim"

"Sounds great" I replied. Just what I need; a break from this stupid Shakespeare crap.

A few minutes later, I found myself trudging across the street to the Carter household clad in a blood red bikini and orange flip-flops. Rueben was such an awesome guy; he was probably more honest than anyone else in the entire world – including Mother Teresa. Is she still alive? I'm not actually sure; I'll have to do some research…

His house was one of the most beautiful ones in town, and its garden made our wonderland look like the city tip. The façade, because it sounds so much better than the front, was a creamy white pool of walls, which joined to together in a harmonious yet professional manner. A balcony lined the left and right section of the second floor, where I knew two golden framed doors lead to the bedrooms. The grass was the most perfect shade of green and never faltered its colour into small patches of brown like most do. The paved driveway was sealed with a stylish bronze fence which automatically opened when I neared it. Palm trees lined the short drive, which it's self turned into a round about sort of thing at the oaky front doors.

I knocked on the heavy duty door and only seconds later it opened.

"Matti" Rueben yelled, embracing me in a warm hug "You came"

"No, this is just a hologram of me. I'm really on a plane to Morocco"

"Still as sarcastic as ever" he grinned, guiding me in.

We made our way through his grand house and into the kitchens.

"So how've you been, Madster?" he asked.

"So so, could be better, could be dead" I replied, lifting myself onto the island bench.

"Too true. Have you started that gianormus Shakespeare thingy?"

I groaned, "Oh, don't remind me"

"I'll take that as a no" he laughed.

"He's such a prick, how can he be so cruel. It's got to be against the law to give out so much homework" I complained.

"Bet he doesn't think that"

"Well doi. Have you started it?"

"Nope" he replied, smiling cheekily.

He handed me a drink and we sauntered out into the pool area. I'd only just realize how hot it was and gladly let him push me into the pools cool depths. But I couldn't let him know that.

"I'll get you for that, Rueben" I threatened.

We played a muck around the pool for the remainder of the day, not really caring that we'd just wasted hours of our life doing absolutely nothing. I'd completely forgotten about wanting to kill my teacher, or the devil possibly rocking up due to my not-so-well thought out thoughts. Everything was great and I was just being a kid. Life was great.

In fact, my life is so great that even when I went home, my mood stayed. I have such a great family and a great school. My house it jut so great and my friends are the greatest. I should just change my last name to Greatington or something and live in a great little cottage because my life is just great.

On the way home my thoughts stayed on how great everything was, and even when mum told me off for dripping water every where when I came inside I just said,

"Oh, great"

I lie on my bed for a few minutes, starting to feel tired from my day of chlorine enclosed fun. My raven curls were hay-like and stewed out everywhere and my emerald green irises were surrounded by red flesh, but I didn't mind.

I rolled over and my eyes fell on a scrap piece of paper sitting idly on my desk. My homework, bollocks.

Yeah, my life sucks.


	2. Chapter 2

_I just thought I'd publish what I have of chapter 2 :)_

_Chapter 2_ – **The Lethargic Shrew of the Morning. **

The sun rose steadily the next morning, allowing pink and orange flecks dot the faint blue sky.

My window caught the first light and angled it directly into my eyes. I stubbornly kept them shut, refusing to welcome the new day.

Gripping my blanket tightly, I possessively pulled it over my head and hugged my pillow.

I'm not exactly sure how long I stayed like this, but I'm guessing it was only a few minutes, right? It was still early, I could sleep.

I heard the sharp creak of my door opening and steady footsteps approach my lethargic form.

"Matti, wake up" A voice said. I think it was dad but I'm not really sure; my ears don't work this early in the morning.

"Matti, get up" it called again, a more forceful tone in the demand.

Begrudging opened my eyes. Yeah, it's dad.

"Sod off" I grumbled into my pillow, pulling my blanket up further.

"MATTI, GET OUT OF BLOODY BED"

That got me up.

Jerked awake in hock by his sudden change in volume., This sudden movement caused me to become one with the blanket and fall to the ground in a tangled heap "BLOODY –ARGH!"

My head hit the ground with a dull thud, softened by the feathery doona.

I pushed and heaved inside the doona-ry cocoon, attempting to break free, only to find myself even more tangled.

"Oh, stuff it" I decided, and with one last shove, I lie still. If I had just a few minuets of silence, I could easily drift back to sleep.

"Language Matti" Dad scorned.

"Mmm" I mumbled, shifting lightly to get more comfortable.

"What are you doing?" dad enquired. I could almost hear the smirk take place on his lips.

"Slee-eping" I yawned.

He chuckled affectionately, "Only you could fall off your bed and still be asleep"

I heard the rustle of the blanket moving before I felt the chilling morning air of my partially stale room swarm me, I whimpered and hugged my pillow tighter still.

"Matti, you've got to get up" dad pleaded, trying to conceal his frustration. Ahh, he new well, don't piss off the sleeping lion, especially if the lion is a metaphor for Matilda Reid.

I suppose if I were a nice person, I'd get up. If I were a good hearted person, I wouldn't put my dad through the difficult task of waking me up. But hey, I'm a sleep-deprived woman thrown out of bed and into a cold abyss without as much as a warning, what do you expect?

"Is someone dead?" I mumbled uninterestedly.

"Wha- no"

"Is someone dying?" I continued.

"No?"

"Is there a giant meteorite coming to destroy us?"

Dad glanced out the window briefly,

"Uh...not that I know of-"

"Then I see no reason to get out of bed" I concluded.

"But Mattie-"

"Sod off" I growled, swiping my hand in the direction his voice was coming from, in vain attempt to hit him. But instead, my hand collided with the corner of my side-table. I winced in pain as the tender flesh of my hand slowly changed to a redy-purple. My senses were all alert now and I knew I'd never get back to sleep.

"Fine, I'm up" I sighed, heaving off of my semi-comfortable floor.

Now that I was fully awake, I could smell the scent of the freshly cooked bacon sizzling down stairs as it floated around my room – teasing me.

"Mum made breakfast" it wasn't a question, so much as a statement.

Without waiting for his reply, I shot up and thundered downstairs. Naturally, my foot caught on the second last step and I lost my balance; falling to the ground with my hands out in a vain attempt to protect myself. How could I have even fallen from there? I mean, it's the last step so you're practically all ready on the ground anyway…

Clambering back to my feet, I charged into the kitchen and took my seat at the table.

"About time" mum laughed, "Hitler hath no fury like you in the morning, I swear"

I grinned, "If dad told me you were cooking bacon and eggs, I would have been down years ago:"

"I'd like to see that"

The kitchen was filled with the sound of the bacon popping in the pan and it's… smell floated idly in the air. I was practically bouncing in my seat as mum started pilling our plates with the colourful array of food.

As she placed my plate in front of me, I immediately dug in. I wish I was one of those people who could eat slowly and savor every bite of the salty bacon and kind-of-fluffy eggs, but sadly I not. Yeah, woe is me and all that jazz. So by the time dad was handed his food, I'd already waffled down half my plate.

"Steady there girl" dad chuckled, biting into his own meal.

I grinned toothily at him, showing the half eaten bolus in my mouth. He shut his eyes quickly and whipped his head back and forth, as though he were trying to rid the sight. All the while muttering something about 'wrong baby in the hospital'

When I'd devoured every editable substance in reach, probably even some of the paint of my ceramic plate, I sighed. Sinking into my chair as it all digested.


End file.
